Banishing the Demons
by BitsnPieces101
Summary: A chance encounter with a woman in need of help leads Horatio down a path which tests not only his values as a man and police officer, but his faith in God and all those things we tend to take for granted. Rated M for subject matter in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

The man was sitting with his back against the marble headstone, unconsciously fiddling with the frames of his sunglasses. It had been so long since he had been here and his guilt still hung over him like a dark cloud.

"Speed, I am lost. First you, and then," his voice cracking, "and then Mari and Raymond."

Horatio Caine raised his head, his eyes red with unshed tears and sadness. He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Losing all of you was my fault. I knew you didn't maintain your weapon as you should and I didn't follow through as a leader…"

Once more his voice cracked, and he drew a shuddering breath . "I didn't follow through as a _friend_. Speed, I failed you and I can't make it right." Tears slowly tracked down his face and he bowed his head once more. "I miss you, Speed."

He rose slowly to his full six feet, brushed the seat of his jeans off, put his hand on the cool marble, and bowed his head. He said a short prayer for his friend, asking his forgiveness. As he did, he relived his friend's death, again seeing his vacant stare. He shuddered and crossed himself. He walked over to his black Tahoe, and took a small vase out and began walking toward another headstone.

He realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a day off without having it end with him back in his office. _Today_, he promised himself, _is mine. I told Speed the truth. I am lost_.

Walking over the small knoll, he caught his breath. The morning was beautiful. There was a small fountain near his wife's grave site, and the branches of a beautiful red maple tree hung overhead. He had timed his visit for early morning. The fountain's gurgling water, the singing of the birds above, and the view – it all spoke of serenity. _Mari deserves such a place_, he thought.

On the headstone's base, he gently set the vase of white roses down and slowly sank to his knees, clearing the bit of leaf detritus from around the headstone. As he had done with Speed, he scooted up and leaned back against the marble. It was still cool. Call him crazy, but he needed connection while speaking with them. It was personal, comfortable and unhurried this way... the way a talk ought to be with a good friend and loved one.

Horatio took a deep breath and looked skyward, seeing a hawk of some kind circling overhead. There was always a hawk when he came to talk with Mari. It was his sign that she was listening and he smiled.

"Hello Mari, my darling. I am so sorry, darling. I know you must be disappointed in me and my actions in Rio. I know I am. I… I thought I would feel better but the hole, the emptiness inside me is still heavy. I'm lost, Mari. I'm becoming someone I don't know."

He took another deep breath to calm his thoughts when he heard a sudden screech. The hawk had landed but a few feet away and Horatio was mesmerized. The hawk and he stared at one another until he felt his heart and his soul, yes his soul, calming down. He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes and face and quietly said, "Thank you, darling." It seemed to Horatio that the hawk nodded and took flight once more. After a few more minutes of silence, of spending time with Mari, Horatio felt better, lighter. Trips to visit Mari were always this way. Gracefully standing, he smiled down at his wife. "Our time was too short, Mari, but know this. I love you." Bowing his head, Horatio crossed himself and said another short prayer.

As he started to leave, he looked overhead and saw the hawk. "Thank you, my friend, for your gift to my wife and I."

He slowly made his way back to his truck. He needed to go to one more place before taking some much needed "me" time.

It was a slow drive and one he enjoyed as it took him back to a time before Speed. He pulled into the front of the old office building and smiled. He remembered the first time, how he had rang the doorbell and promptly moved back as the dogs had begun barking.

_Belle_, he thought, _you were full of surprises_.

The suite, for some reason, had never rented again. He took a poppy from the cooler beside him and got out. He stretched and made his way over to the door. He placed the poppy in front of the door in memory of the good and caring lady. _The sun is going to be warm today_, he thought, and sat down in the shade of the entryway, much as he had done with Speed and Mari.

"How are you, Belle? Have you and Speed been taking care of one another? I… I have been trying, my friend, to do as you asked and take care of myself as well. I admit it has been hard lately."

He sighed and continued. "Who am I trying to kid, Belle, but myself. I'm not taking care at all. I can't tell the others, they have enough problems without me adding to their own. Work has been unreal. The criminals, Belle, are getting more cruel and creative in their dysfunctional need, or I'm not moving ahead with the times." He sighed once more. _Is that it?_ he wondered _Am I still seeing the world as it was and not how it is? No. That's not it. You're tired, old man. Give it a rest. _

"Belle, you are missed." Once more, he stood and said a short prayer.

Back in the Tahoe, Horatio headed for home. While only 8 am, the heat and humidity were already on the rise. Once home, he changed into a pair of lightweight shorts and t-shirt, slathered on the sunblock and put a hat on. He drained water from the cooler, put in a couple bottles of water and a bottle of brewed tea and refilled it with ice. He grabbed his jeans and rolled them up and put them in a small duffle along with a couple of magazines, a book, pencil and finally a pad of paper. The duffle, cooler and a pair of tennis shoes were thrown into the back seat. Without a backward glance, Horatio headed to an out-of-the way beach. He found he was actually looking forward to this. He turned the radio on and, after listening for a few minutes, put a CD in instead. _Enough news_, he thought.

He hadn't looked at what he had picked up. It was an eclectic mix ranging from Bach's Brandenburg Concertos to a light hip hop and dub-step mix. He chuckled aloud as he remembered Eric's reaction to this particular CD. "H! You know, you listen…" stumbling over his words in his astonishment, shaking his head and smiling widely. Horatio had smiled at his brother-in-law. He was surprised at himself as well. While not enjoying much of the hip hop, there were a few artists that expressed themselves well, not in anger but in quiet contemplation of the world around them.

The dub-step was an accident. While processing a crime scene near a local basketball park, he had heard some of the music and it, too, had touched him deeply; not all of it, mind you, but a few artists. Some of the music he found while surfing you-tube on the rare occasion he couldn't sleep and didn't want to look at another report he had brought home with him.

As the miles passed, he could feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He knew he had made the right decision. He was desperate for the peace and solitude only the water could bring him. Sometimes he would go to one of the big beaches for a moment's respite, but he was always recognized and, while they left him alone, he knew he was being watched and couldn't really relax like he could here.

He pulled off onto the road leading into the secluded area. As he pulled up he was glad to see no other vehicles although it was rarely vacant as hikers liked the spot as well. He grabbed his stuff and headed for "his" spot.

As he walked, he passed a woman sitting on a sleeping bag with a small notebook in her hand. She tensed as he neared and though her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses like his were, he knew he would see wariness in them. He smiled and nodded as non-threateningly as possible while glancing down at her notebook. _She's quite good,_ he thought as he processed the small pen and ink sketches.

He continued another 15 yards up the beach to the small grove of palms and sat down. He put everything down, laid out a towel, took off his shirt and sandals and approached the water. He waded out and spent the next 15 minutes enjoying himself. He could feel his shoulders getting hot and knew it was time to get out.

He noticed the woman had relaxed although there was a slight tightening of her shoulders as he returned to his beach towel and sat down. He took a smaller towel out and quickly dried himself and reapplied sunblock. He then laid back and closed his eyes.

After a short catnap, he sat up and took out his book and began reading. He looked over to the woman as his inquisitive nature couldn't be stopped. She was dressed in jeans that had seen better days, a dark tank top and a dark colored ball cap. Her blond hair was a stark contrast. She didn't seem to mind the sun. She stood and he frowned as he noticed she grabbed her left side as if in pain. She let her hand drop and she slowly walked up the beach. He went back to reading his book.

As much as he tried to continue reading, he was uneasy.

Something was wrong but he couldn't quite figure it out. The woman still hadn't returned, and he glanced at his watch. She had been gone for almost an hour. Not unusual but even so... _Is this where the uneasiness is coming from?_ He glanced up the beach and sighed to himself. _Good she is coming back. Maybe it isn't her after all. _ He could feel the tension emanating from her as she neared his place and he ignored it and her as he continued to pretend he was reading. He looked up once she was past and noticed her hand on her side once more. He stood quickly and ran over to her as she began to weave, catching her as she fell.

"Miss? Miss? My name is Horatio and I'm going to lay you down, alright?"

He kept talking to her, telling her exactly what he was doing in case she came to. He returned to his cooler and grabbed a bottle of water and his small towel, dunking it in the melted ice, then returning to her.

She should have been warm in the clothes she had on but she felt cool and somewhat clammy as if in shock. He wiped her face down and gently began running his hands down her arms, then legs.

"You're doing well, Miss. I'm going to check your ribs and stomach now." She groaned as he pushed lightly on her ribs. When he pulled his left hand back, he was shocked to see the blood.

"Miss, I'm going to raise your shirt up a bit. I promise I'm not trying to hurt you." He immediately saw the redness of infection on her upper left abdomen and, as he raised the shirt, he saw the raw, angry knife wound. It was deep and began just below the ribcage, and as he rolled her to her right side, the wound wrapped around to her back. He groaned at what he saw. He raised her shirt, revealing numerous cuts all over her back. He took the small towel and gently cleaned the wounds.

Her eyes fluttered open and widened in apprehension. "Miss, it's alright. My name is Horatio Caine. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get some care and help. You're wound is infected."

She shook her head. "No one can help me," she whispered. Tears rolled down her face. "I killed her, killed all of them. I don't deserve help. I deserve to die. I deserve hell" She slumped once more, and Horatio was speechless.

He picked up her up, surprised by how light she was. She was also taller than he had expected. He shook his head, his gut telling him she hadn't killed anyone but he needed to get her help first and then find out the rest of her story. As he put her in the passenger seat, and buckled her in, he noticed her jeans were wet with blood. The wound had opened more, although how it had happened he wasn't sure.

He retrieved the first-aid kit from the back of his truck and set to binding the wound. _Who are you and who did you kill, or think you killed_, he thought as glanced over at his passenger, frowning as he saw the sweat on her brow.


	2. Chapter 2

Horatio stood in the hospital emergency room, waiting on word from the doctors about the woman's condition. As he waited, he reflected on the trip to the hospital and his concern for the woman's well-being.

_It was obvious she had been abused. Had there been more than one abuser? _ _The deep knife wound was different._ His mind seized on that thought but the woman's mumbling interrupted his thoughts. He glanced over and frowned as he saw the sweat-beaded brow, the thrashing head, the clenching fists… _She's having_ _a nightmare_, he thought. He slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road. She suddenly jerked awake, hollering out in a language he didn't recognize. She was wild-eyed, looking for an escape, pawing at the seatbelt.

"Miss, it's OK," he said quietly and calmly. "My name is Horatio, remember? You passed out on the beach." He watched as she looked everywhere but at him. He took a chance and reached for her hand, but she tensed. He kept his palm up and slipped it under her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I promise you," he started, willing her to look him in the eye, "that I am here only to help you and get you the care you need. I am not going to harm you."

He started to remove his hand when she timidly squeezed his back. He returned the gesture warmly. He sighed inwardly when she turned toward him and looked at him for the first time. Her storm blue eyes were gauging his sincerity. He put everything into a smile of reassurance and all his compassion in his return grip.

"Can you tell me your name?"

He didn't push but waited patiently for her to make the first step. Judging by the wariness in her eyes it would be a big step. Her storm blue eyes with amber flecks are unique, he on the weather or her mood, they would be blue or gray. Today they were a deep gray. Is it a reflection of her pain and exhaustion, or something deeper, he wondered?

"It's Sloane," she whispered shyly.

"Hi, Sloane," he smiled, softly squeezing her hand. He watched as her tears fell, and frowned. He could feel the heat of her fever. "Sloane, honey, we need to get you to the hospital. Okay?" He waited for a response but none came. She had passed out once more.

"Lieutenant Caine?" a young man asked, pulling Horatio from his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Garcia. Why don't we have a seat and I'll go over the results with you." Horatio nodded and sat beside the young doctor. "First, we are concerned with the dehydration and fever. She has multiple contusions and abrasions, two rib fractures which, judging by the x-rays, are approximately 2-3 weeks old. The wounds on her back are in various stages of healingsuggesting," the doctor paused, "well you know what that suggests." He looked Horatio in the eye. Horatio nodded and a slow, cold anger began to build within him.

The doctor continued, "The other wound has me stymied. The outside looks like a 'normal' knife wound." As he said the word 'normal' the doctor's fingers pantomimed quotation marks with his two index fingers.

"But?" Horatio, questioned.

"But, when you look below the surface of the wound, it looks like hamburger. It's almost as though someone cut her, then reached in and ground the tissue below the surface to maximize pain and keep it from healing," the doctor said in disgust.

Horatio gaped, unsure what to say. He only knew the cold anger was steadily increasing. Heaven help the man or men once he caught up with them. He looked up and knew Dr. Garcia read him and returned the feelings.

"What's the prognosis?"

The doctor sighed. "She will heal, Lieutenant, but it will be painful – physically _and_ emotionally.

Horatio nodded. "May I see her?"

The doctor looked at him and nodded.

"Give us 20 minutes to get her situated in ICU. We're going to have to keep a close eye on that fever and infection. Go get a cup of coffee and clean yourself up." Dr. Garcia stood up, put a comforting hand on Horatio's shoulder and left.

Horatio looked down at his hands and shorts and grimaced at the blood he saw there.

He went to his truck and retrieved his duffle. He started to grab his beach towel then remembered he had used it to help bind Sloane's wound. Frowning and slamming the door harder than he had intended, he took a deep breath and headed back inside.

Emerging later from the men's room, Horatio felt cleaner and somewhat fresher. He sighed, debating whether to go straight to the ICU or return his duffle to the truck. Deciding on the former, he made his way to the ICU. Giving the nurse his name, he waited patiently as she checked the log.

"She's in Room 4," the nurse said. "The doctor is allowing 15 minutes tonight, Sir. If she improves tonight the doctor will allow more time tomorrow," she said gently, seeing his concerned look.

"She's in good hands, Lieutenant."

"I know ma'am. Its uh." he hesitated, cleared his throat and looked up. "She's alone ma'am," he said quietly.

The depth of emotion she heard in his voice touched her. "Lieutenant, I give you my word, my nurses and I will make sure she knows she isn't alone," the nurse said quietly.

He nodded and thanked the nurse, turning as she pointed the way. With that Horatio slowly walked down the hall and quietly entered Sloane's room.

He pulled the chair over and sat down. Gently he took her hand in his. "Sloane, its Horatio. You're in the ICU and being well taken care of. Honey, you have to fight this infection and remember you aren't alone." He hesitantly reached out and brushed the white blonde hair off her face.

"The doctor is only giving me 15 minutes tonight but I promise I will be back tomorrow morning. You hang in there, okay? Remember Sloane, you aren't alone. The nurses will be in and out during the night and I'll be back before you know it. You fight, you hear me," he said earnestly, "you fight this."

Horatio gently put her hand back on the bed and quietly left. He nodded to the nurses as he left, each knowing the lieutenant would be back.

Horatio was sitting at his desk, staring unseeingly at his computer. His thoughts were on the previous afternoon, the woman he now knew as Sloane, the apparent abuse she had suffered, and the help she so obviously needed. _How_, he questioned, _does one human being do that to another? Sadism? Is it really that simple? _he thought. _No, it begins with a lack of caring. You're dangerously close to that line in the sand, old man."_

His eyes widened at the thought. He had been calling it determination and resolve to get the bad guys, even justice. _Was it though? Or am I on the edge of not caring anymore? _ _I know I care for the victim but what of myself? Am I slipping and becoming more like the criminals I pursue in the name of justice? _The thought weighed heavily, not only on his but his soul too.

"Morning H," Eric said brightly. He frowned when he didn't get a reply from his brother- in- law. He stepped farther into the office and looked at Horatio more closely. His eyebrows rose when he saw his boss dressed casually in jeans, faded blue button down shirt, and shirt sleeves rolled up. It was also apparent to Eric his brother- in- law was brooding.

"H?" he called a bit more loudly.

Horatio looked up and smiled tiredly. "Eric."

"You look like you've slept here. You didn't, did you? Oh H," Eric said sadly and sat down in front of his brother- in- law, intent on continuing to chastise him. He stopped when Horatio held his hand up.

"No, I didn't sleep here, but something did come up and I came in." He hesitated and looked at his watch, astonished at the time. "Uh… I, uh, came in some time ago."

Eric shook his head. "Time got away from you." Horatio nodded and smiled sheepishly. "I need a favor Eric," he said slowly. "I want you to take the lead on these two cases we have out. I need to follow through on something that came up yesterday. There is no official case yet, but-"

"But," Eric smiled and continued for him, "you know it could be."

Horatio smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it could be," he agreed. "I'm going to be in and out today with this. I'm going to go home, shower and change and then head to the hospital. Keep in touch and call with progress as it's made." He stopped and studied Eric's face before continuing. "I will do the same and will tell you more as soon as I know. Okay Brother?"

Eric smiled and stood. "I know you will," he said. He crossed the room, stopped and briefly turned back. "H," he said softly, waiting for his brother-in- law to look up before continuing. "Whatever you are thinking, you are a good man. I'll always be here when you need." Eric turned and left the office, leaving a perplexed but grateful man behind his desk.

Horatio pulled up to the hospital. Thinking about what the doctor had said, seeing the condition Sloane was in, he felt his blood boil and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. _"Calm yourself. You don't want to add to her anxiety which she must be feeling,"_ he admonished himself. Taking a final, deep cleansing breath, he got out and headed in to see Sloane.

Sloane was caught in a nightmare.

_She was somewhere dark and it was cold and couldn't see for the smoke or was it fog? Looking around, she tried to find the presence she felt. Suddenly there was pain - her back and side were on fire. She put her hand to her side and it felt wet. "Not again!" she cried out. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Something cracked in the air above her. She flinched but with nowhere to go, she defiantly stood straight and said "I am not afraid of you."_

"_Oh but you are Sloane Rankin. You know what I am capable of. This is only the beginning." She refused to cry out in pain as she felt fire rain down upon her back and then mercifully it stopped. She sank to her knees as she felt what energy she had, slowly ebbed away leaving her weak. "How much more?" she asked, looking toward the heavens. I can't do this any longer, I can't." _

The nurses were running into Sloane's room when Horatio got off the elevator. Squelching his need to rush in, he stood back and watched as they silenced the alarms.

"Call Dr. Garcia" he heard one nurse call out.

It wasn't long before he saw the doctor walking down the hall. He acknowledged Horatio before going into the room. After an eternity, the doctor came out.

"Dr. Garcia?" Horatio asked as he approached the young doctor, "How is she?"

"Lieutenant," he acknowledged as he continued to write notes in Sloane's chart. Finally he looked up. "Your friend had a mild panic attack and we gave her a very small dose of valium to calm her down. I don't like doing that without knowing any medical history but it was either that or have her cause herself more harm."

Horatio nodded and asked, "Do you know what caused the panic attack?"

"No and she isn't talking either."

Horatio understood the unasked question. "Is it alright if I go in now," he asked quietly. The doctor nodded, and gently grasped Horatio's arm. "Anything to help us," he said quietly, "would be greatly appreciated." Horatio nodded and quietly entered Sloane's room and sat down beside her bed.

He gently took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "Sloane," he began, I'm not sure if you remember or not, but my name is Horatio and we met on the beach yesterday afternoon. You gave me quite the scare."

He continued to talk softly and hold her hand, on occasion rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, soothingly. "You aren't alone. I'm going to be here with you and beside you through this."

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at him, silent tears running down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently wiped the tears away. "Shh, sleep for a while. I'll be here."

She shook her head no. "No," she croaked, "no sleep. Dreams."

"I will be here to wake you," he said. Smiling and reaching up to cup her face, "I promise."

Sloane looked at him, and Horatio felt as if his measure was being taken. Finally she nodded. Whether she wanted it or not, the valium wasn't giving her any choice and she slowly drifted to sleep.

Horatio looked up when he saw a nurse enter. "Ma'am," he acknowledged.

The nurse nodded and began charting Sloane's vitals. She watched the red headed lieutenant out of the corner of her eye. "It's not a publicity thing is it?" she asked. She quickly put her hand to her mouth, shocked with herself. "I am so sorry, Lieutenant," she stammered, "I have a very bad habit of saying what I am thinking."

Horatio smiled. "It's okay. What isn't a publicity thing?" He didn't understand what she was saying. Again, Horatio felt as if he were being measured.

The nurse's opinion of him went up a notch when she found he really didn't understand.

"You're caring."

Horatio looked blank, so she hastily continued. "We – my husband and I, thought it was some publicity thing because every time we see you, there is this air about you and well, we thought," she stumbled, obviously embarrassed.

Horatio was gracious and saved face for her.

Smiling gently, he answered, "I understand. I do care about what happens to the people in our city. What's your name?" he asked.

Thanking him with her eyes for the out, she answered, "Barb."

"My name is Horatio, Barb and it's a pleasure to meet you."

They both grinned. "Barb, where are her things? Also, do you know if she had any tattoos, old scars, piercings, anything that might help me help her," he asked.

Thinking for a moment, Barb replied, "I don't recall any tattoos or piercings. Scars, I am not sure of, other than what you yourself have seen. Her things are in the small closet over there. Would you like a cup of coffee, Lieu, I mean Horatio? The nurse's station always has some and if you don't mind me saying so, you look as if you could use it."

"Point the way, good lady. I definitely need a cup of coffee. You will stay here for the moment I am gone?" he asked.

Satisfied when Barb nodded, Horatio left to get that cup of coffee. Barb left when Horatio came back in, and smiled as she heard him talk soothingly to the young woman.

He got up to stretch and went to the small closet Barb had pointed to. Quietly opening the door, he took Sloane's bag out. His instinct, as an officer, was telling him to open it and look for information, but the man inside him was telling him to wait for Sloane. Putting the bag away, he decided to wait. He needed Sloane to trust him and immediately barging in as officer first wasn't the way. _Why don't I believe you, Sloane? I have seen many so called victims be the perpetrator of cold and callous acts, so why not you? I saw the guilt in your eyes, yes, but not callousness. Are you suffering from survivor's guilt?_

He looked up as he heard Sloane let out a small moan, and gripped her hand tightly while cupping her face with his other hand. "Sloane, I promised I wouldn't leave. I'm here," he said softly. "C'mon, Sloane, wake up, honey."

Sloane felt the comforting pressure on her hand. It wasn't at all like the coldness she was oh so familiar with. It wasn't _HIS_ touch. She grabbed the warmth with all her might, intent on never letting go. Horatio smiled as he felt her return his squeeze.

"You're still here," she said, somewhat amazed.

"I am."

"Why? You don't know me."

"Because I made you a promise, and I keep my promises the best I can. I don't have to know you to keep my promise. Besides, I think you can use a friend right now."

Frowning as he saw Sloane look away from him. "Sloane, look at me honey."

When she did, he again saw pain, guilt, hurt - physical and emotional- and a myriad other emotions cross her face before trying to close them off.

He smiled gently, "Sloane I would like you to tell me what happened to you. I am going to help you because you need help. You need a friend. I'm going to help because I care."

Sloane cried. Looking at him she thought, c_an I trust him? I have trusted in the past and that trust has betrayed me. His eyes, though, they aren't lying. He wants to help, but will I drag this obviously good man down because he offered his help?_

She closed her eyes and Horatio thought he lost her when she squeezed his hand. He held her gaze and once more, he felt that measuring look down to the depths of his soul. She nodded slowly.

"I don't know how or where to begin. I have told others and it hasn't ended well. How do I know it won't be the same with you?" she asked earnestly.

Solemnly he looked at her and declared, "I am not like the others." His answer seemed to please her and he could see the hope in her eyes.

"Where do I begin?" she asked.

"Where you need to," he said.

Taking a deep breath, she began her story.


	3. Chapter 3

"Easy now," he said as he watched Sloane's shaky hand wipe away the quiet tears in her eyes.

"It's so hard to even know where to begin," she replied quietly. Raising her tear streaked eyes, she met his gaze. Continuing in a quiet voice, "Horatio, I have been burned by others. Many have said they would believe me only to laugh or say I'm crazy. I can accept that but _please_," she begged, "tell me now you are genuine and don't," she said emphatically, "say stuff just to say it. Understand?"

Horatio took a deep breath gathering his thoughts before answering. "Sloane, I don't make idle promises. I make those I know I can keep. I promised to listen and I promised I would help you. How that help comes, depends entirely upon you. If you promise to tell me the whole truth, then we will have no problems. Understand?"

Watching her face intently, while keeping his face completely open to her, he smiled reassuringly. She nodded, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I was the shy and quiet one in our family," she said, her eyes losing focus, lost in thought. "My sister," she continued, "was popular, beautiful and so sure of herself. We were close. I listened to her, and she protected me from our parent's wrath."

Horatio's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"I wasn't good enough," Sloane said softly, looking down at the bed sheets. "My sister was the perfect combination of my parents. She had my mother's auburn hair, my father's dark chocolate eyes, their fair skinned coloring, and she had their outgoing personalities." She sighed wistfully.

"Me, I'm a dishwater blonde. It has darkened as I have become older, but still bleaches white with the sun. I have blue-gray eyes and a dark olive skin tone. My father was – _is_," she corrected herself, certain another man –an Indian, is my father. My mother is mad that he would believe such a thing of her and is furious with me for looking the way I do."

"Isn't it amazing what stays with us?" she asked. Horatio nodded even though he knew it was a rhetorical question, silently thinking of his own family. _Indeed, he thought. It is indeed, honey._

Horatio saw Sloane glance to the bedside table with the water pitcher on it and read the unspoken thought. He reached over, poured it and handed her a glass of water. Taking it gratefully, she took a deep drink.

"Thank you," she said. Horatio smiled and nodded.

She hesitated then continued. "One night my sister came home late. She was crying when she came into my room. Her lip was split, her blouse torn and she had bruises on her arms. Instinctively I knew what happened. I held her for the longest time, while she cried. Finally she raised her head from mine and for the first time I saw fear in her eyes and I knew why. She had to tell our parents and," Sloane's voice caught. She left the sentence unfinished.

Horatio knew she needed a moment and excused himself to the men's room down the hall. When he came back, Sloane was picking at her hospital wristband. "Hey," he said quietly.

She smiled gratefully. "You read people very well, Horatio. Thank you for giving me a moment."

He set down two cups of coffee and this time the smile reached her eyes. "I need this," she said enthusiastically. She inhaled deeply, the aroma reaching some deep dark recess of her brain and almost instantly she sighed in relief.

Horatio chuckled. "I don't believe I have ever seen such a response to hospital coffee."

"I do love my coffee," she said as she sipped at the hot nectar. She quietly assessed the man beside her and knew her first impression was accurate. He is a good man and an honest one. He understood her concerns and made but one promise – to listen and not to judge. _It's a start, she thought. I know what to expect and it gives me hope. _

"We both knew our parents had to be told. You have to realize they were very conservative and the thought of one of their daughters, especially Ronnie, having sex – consensual or not – well," her voice trailed off. She was lost in the memory and Horatio gently squeezed her hand. Sloane nodded, though not looking up at him.

"Ronnie, _Veronica,_ was her given name and she hated it. Anyway, Ronnie and I talked all night. She told me what she could remember. There were so many holes and she couldn't remember a lot of what happened. At least, that's what I thought at the time," Sloane said somewhat cryptically.

"We then got to the subject of telling Mom and Dad."

"Why didn't she go to the police?" Horatio asked.

"We lived in a very small community, where image was everything, particularly in our parent's eyes." Sarcastic, Sloane said, "If we learned nothing else but that…," letting her voice trail off. "They were good, law- abiding, church going citizens. They voted and did their civic duty; they volunteered and put up a front that all was well in their perfect little world."

Bitterly, Sloane continued. "No one knew they had a drinking problem. No one knew of the venom that came out of their mouths at home. No one knew they were bigots and racists. No one knew they hated their youngest daughter because she didn't_ look _like good old Mom and Dad and no one knew of the bruises or the whip marks." She looked up into Horatio's eyes, and he saw her soul laid bare for him. "No one knew."

"No matter what we did, it would be a no win situation." She looked down to her coffee cup and frowned. "We didn't know what to do. The police were out of the question. We couldn't go to Pastor Johnson. You want something to spread throughout town, Pastor Johnson was the way. And we couldn't go to our Mom and Dad.

"We decided to wait a couple of days, which turned into another day, and another and another. Ronnie changed before my eyes shortly after that night. She woke screaming during the night. She lost weight. Her grades dropped and Mom and Dad said it was a phase. I begged Ronnie to allow me to tell them, tell someone. She wouldn't hear of it and would often stomp away. About two months later, I saw her coming out of the shower and my worst fears were realized. Quietly I went into her room. I remember her looking up at me and I gasped. Her eyes, my sister's eyes, were dead and pleading at the same time. I sat beside her and we hugged for the longest time and I had the funniest feeling she knew who had raped her and whose child she was carrying."

"_You know who did this, don't you, Ronnie?"_

_Ronnie couldn't help but look into her sister's eyes. They were most incredible eyes, she thought. They have the most amazing ability to convey what she is feeling. Right now she is worried about me and her eyes are so warm, so loving. She began to cry again. The only time she felt good was when her youngest sister held her. Her frame, while slight, was strong, compact and safe. If only, she thought to herself, if Momma and Daddy could see what a good person Sloane is. _

"_S-s-s-Sloane," she stuttered and sniffled, "what am I going to do? It was dinner and a movie. I didn't think I lead him on and I certainly wasn't dressed provocatively. Was I? God, it was jeans and a blouse. My makeup was conservative. I didn't ask for it, did I Sloane?"_

"_What? Wait a minute. Oh hell no. Ronnie there is no way in hell you asked for it. Who, Ronnie? Who said such a thing?"_

"_I went to talk to him. Remember I was gone from the house for a couple of hours the next day?"_

_Sloane nodded, "I remember."_

"_I went over to his house and he laughed at me. He told me I deserved it because I came on to him. I pushed him with the way I was dressed and that my lipstick was that of a whore's! Oh, Sloane, it's my fault, and that's the way Momma and Daddy will see this. You know they will," she wailed and got up and began pacing around the room._

"_Who did this, Ronnie?"_

"_I can't. I'm sorry, Sloane. For once I can't tell you who. I have to take responsibility for my actions. I have decided I will tell Momma and Daddy." With a wry smile on her face she said, "It's just that I know they will blame you. Stupid, huh? I'm the one who goes out and gets knocked up and you will be the one blamed for it."_

"_It's okay they do. I can handle it. You need to tell someone, Ronnie. This bastard needs to be punished for what he did."_

_Ronnie laughed with no humor. "Language, little sister"_

Quietly Sloane said, "She never did tell me who it was. She told Mom and Dad what had happened. They _grounded_ her. Can you believe it? They didn't give her support; they didn't take her to the police or even the Church or hospital. They grounded her and three days later, she committed suicide."

Abruptly, Horatio stood and took her into his arms, hugging her as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally came. Sobbing and choking, she managed to stutter, "she co-com-committed ss-su-suic-c-cide an-an-and i-i-i-it was mu-mu-muhyy f-f-fault. I-I-I did-didn't d-d-do e-e-enu-enough." Horatio continued to hold her until the sobs quieted and the woman in his arms calmed.

"Sloane, honey, look at me." Eventually, Sloane raised her eyes to meet his. "The one ultimately responsible for this is NOT in this room," he stated with conviction. She started to lower her head when Horatio gently raised her chin, making her look at him. "I know this from experience, Sloane. No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we do, suicide always makes us feel inadequate. Your sister was in too much pain and couldn't see any options," he said gently.

"Your parents handling of the situation didn't help. May I presume they allowed her to believe it was her fault she was raped and assaulted and by doing so, she shamed their good name?" he asked quietly. Sloane nodded. He continued to sit beside her while she regained her composure. Gently he pushed her hair out of her eyes, and said "Up for another cup of coffee or would you prefer something else?"

Thinking for a moment she replied, "If they have herbal tea, any flavor, please."

"I imagine they do. Do you have a favorite?"

"Cinnamon stick, but if not, any flavor will be fine."

Horatio nodded and turned back when she called his name. No words came, but he understood and smiled reassuringly, leaving her yet also giving her some time.

Sloane reclined back. _I have just told this man more about me than I have any other. He didn't patronize me or condemn my sister. He also confirmed something I've known in my heart, but this is the first time another has said it. Ronnie's life had been turned upside down and inside out. Her innocence was forcibly taken from her and afterward she was humiliated by that bastard. And. By. Our. Parents. _She forced herself to take a deep breath and release the fist that was clenched tightly.

While Sloane was contemplating her thoughts, Horatio was stopped in the hall by the doctor.

"Lieutenant Caine, how are you?" the doctor greeted.

Horatio nodded in acknowledgment. "I haven't anything to tell you at this moment, Dr. Garcia. It will take some time for Sloane to completely open up to me. I suspect when she does it will happen outside these walls."

"I suppose you are right, Lieutenant. I really can't keep her as her temperature has come down significantly and she is responding well to the antibiotics. The wound continues to seep, which is normal after we were told she was taking aspirin to manage her 'aches and pains.'"

"Ah, I see," Horatio interrupted. The doctor nodded. If she has been taking it for any length of time, which I suspect is the case; her blood won't be able to clot as it naturally would."

"I understand," said Horatio.

The doctor sighed as his pager went off. "It's been a hectic day," he said by way of an apology.

"I understand that too," Horatio replied. The doctor had already started for the nurse's station. He stopped, turned briefly back, "I know you do," he said sadly. "You will inform me if you find anything out?" Horatio nodded, "If I can."

Taking a deep breath, Horatio went inside and observed Sloane for a moment. He could see what she meant by bleached hair – the hair on top of her head was much darker than the hair around her shoulders. She could easily pass for a person of Latin, no Indian descent, remembering what she had said. She had high cheekbones and a long neck. Of medium height, and slender build her shoulders were remarkably broad, suggesting heavy physical work during her life.

He smiled when she looked up. Handing the cup to her he remarked, "It isn't cinnamon stick, but they did have an apple cinnamon flavor."

"It's perfect, thank you."

Setting the cup down, Sloane finally broke the comfortable silence.

"I came home from school to find the police and an ambulance there. I ran in and was restrained by this deputy. He told me I didn't want to go up there. Things are hazy from that point but I do remember my Mom coming down the stairs and slapping me, telling me it was my fault her daughter was dead. I remember the shock on the deputy's face. He was new to the area and being from the city thought small towns was like Mayberry.

"Things went downhill fast after Ronnie's funeral. My Dad was given a leave of absence from his job to seek counseling. His counseling wasn't what the company intended and the result was two-fold. The first was to ignore me and drink, and the second was to drink and then beat the shit out of me. Finally he was fired after making no effort to seek help. My Mom has not talked to me since the day she slapped me, nor has she acknowledged my presence."

Sloane was now talking like a machine. Horatio couldn't blame her. How many times had he himself done the very same thing?

"About a year later, I was fifteen; the school counselor finally asked to see me. His name was Dr. Beck. He was the epitome of a fluffy old bear," she said affectionately. Horatio raised his eyebrows at the connotation and smiled to himself.

"He uh, he was the uh, first to ask me what happened. I confess I gave him a hard time, making him work for the answers he wanted. Then it dawned on me, he hadn't been here the year before. This was a new position. He didn't have any idea and was asking out of genuine interest and concern.

"I tried to open up, and give him the answers he so wanted to hear, and he was patient, but it was a session with my parents that opened his eyes. He found they were uncaring and unforgiving. It was my fault 'their daughter' went out, was raped, made pregnant and then committed suicide." Sloane's breathing was heavier and tears were falling.

Horatio let her be as she took a deep breath. "Dr. Beck was appalled. He called Child Services and I was taken from my home and placed in foster care." Sloane looked at Horatio, hoping he would understand when she said, "I thought I had died and gone to heaven."


	4. Chapter 4

_It's after midnight, he thought. _Horatio sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, noticing not for the first time, how thin it was becoming. And long. He needed a haircut. He had come into the office to check his messages, finding his box full instead. _The price, _he thought_, of being away from the office for a day. _Sitting down heavily, he started his paperwork, methodically going through it until it was finished.

Wearily he stood up, drained what was left of his cold coffee, and turned his desk light off. While walking across the parking lot, Horatio had the uncanny feeling someone was watching him. Pretending to drop his keys, he squatted to pick them up, looking around as he stood. He didn't see anything but his gut instinct was honed and it was rarely, if ever wrong. Someone was watching him.

Getting into the SUV, he opened the console between the two seats. Removing the handful of CD's he ran his hand along the lip, his fingers finding and pressing the small button. Hearing the click, he opened the bottom panel revealing one of his personal weapons and two spare ammunition clips. Laying the weapon on the passenger seat, Horatio felt somewhat better although wondering if he was over reacting due to his exhaustion. _No, _he thought_. Tired or not, don't start second guessing what has saved your hide countless times. Besides, it's better to be safe and armed than sorry and not._

In the blackness of the night, and the deeper shadows of the parking lot, dark-hooded eyes watched the black Chevy Tahoe pull out into the Miami traffic. The man could easily have followed him or had the red headed cop followed but it would call attention to him. _Not yet, _he thought._ I have the advantage. Don't be hasty. Bide your time and use it well. _

* * *

Horatio leaned tiredly against the kitchen counter. He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to will the headache away. Hearing Sloane's pain yesterday and relating it to his own past coupled with the uneasy feeling of being watched left him restless and unable to sleep.

Conceding the headache wouldn't go away Horatio found the bottle of Excedrin in the cupboard and took two. He put a slice of bread in the toaster and walked over to his laptop and turned it on. He had already listened to the news. _Disturbing, _he thought_, as it never really seems to change. The details and the names change, but the stories do not. Seldom is there any good news. It's always rape, murder, theft, gang violence, the war abroad, the declining economy and on it goes, he sighed. _ _The weather, thankfully, would be cooler the next few days as a storm front, bringing rain, moved in._

Next he opened the French doors leading out to his balcony. Clad only in shorts, he enjoyed the coolness of the morning, the breeze raising goose bumps on his bare flesh. As he stood there, he let the sounds of the ocean wash over him, leaving in its wake a feeling of peace as only the ocean could do.

Going back inside, he buttered his toast and grabbed the coffee pot. He took both over to his waiting laptop.

Logging into the MDPD, he brought up the current cases. Looking through them, he noticed the ballistics back log. Then checking his calendar, he was relieved to see Calleigh had returned from her conference last night. _Her presence is always missed, _he thought_. While they have capable techs covering her absence, few if any, had her flair and proficiency. _

Alex's findings confirmed one of yesterday's cases was indeed a suicide. _The other, _he realized_, is telling in its lack of evidence. There should be something considering the location – a seedy motel serving the local bars and strip joints. The woman was strangled and mutilated. There was no purse, no identification and the room, according to the motel, was vacant. This killing wasn't a crime of passion. It was rage and it was premeditated. _Following this train of thought, Horatio sent Eric an email, asking if the locks on the room's exterior door and windows had been examined for any sign of forced entry. He also informed Eric he would be at the hospital again today but available should he be needed.

Shutting the computer down, he poured another cup of coffee and looked down at the cold, unfinished piece of toast. He pushed the plate away as his thoughts drifted toward the uneasy feeling of being watched last night. _Who and why? I have plenty of enemies – why now? There haven't been any threats nor have there been any high profile cases gone to court or otherwise recently. There were no bulletins informing him of any paroles or releases. Why does this feel off_, he asked himself_? _ Tabling the thoughts for later, Horatio put the plate and cup in the dishwasher and wiped the crumbs off the counter and table.

Deciding on the casual approach again, Horatio dressed in jeans, tee shirt and a button down to cover the fact he would be carrying his service weapon. He hesitated when he started to take the car. _If I keep the Tahoe visible, it gives me an advantage. IF, _he thought_, they haven't been watching for long. _It was a small thing, but all the same it felt right. He knew he would be looking over his shoulder, as well. _I have to do so without being obvious. At least the traffic is in my favor this morning._

* * *

While Horatio was negotiating the traffic, Sloane was testing her strength. She knew she had to keep moving. She couldn't be in any one place for very long. He had found her time and time again. He always found her.

Slowly she tried to rise only to hiss in pain. _I won't get very far like this, _she sighed_. I don't think I have ever been this weak. Horatio is a good and honorable man. He simply won't let me go either, even if I know it would be better for everyone. I trust him. He has been true to his word and listened. I need to tell him all of it, but what then? Will he believe me? I know he 'wants' to but can he? Hell, I'm not sure I would believe me either._

_He has been so patient, _she thought_. He listened and let me tell this at my own pace. He asked me where to start and I could have easily started with how I got here, but then how would I explain why I am running. My sister's death began it all. I saw him where he wasn't supposed to be and recognized him for who he was. Now I am the bad guy, the crazy sister._

_I'm never going to be rid of him. I can't let Horatio suffer for my… hmm, _she thought_. My what? I did the right thing and I told the authorities. I didn't lie although they didn't believe me either. They said I was looking for attention and blaming a good man - a man who had tried to 'help' me, _she thought sarcastically.

_All Horatio wants is the truth. Damn but that's a tall order. The truth is so much bigger than he realizes. You wanted this Sloane, and now that you have someone willing to listen, someone not tied to him, you're letting yourself think about running. Again. It has to stop somewhere and you know it._

She looked up when she heard Horatio's voice outside. _He's courteous_, she thought as she listened to him speaking with the nurses. _It's a good voice. It's comforting. It reminds me, in a way, of Stands Alones' voice. I miss him, _she thought sadly.

Horatio peeked in. "Hey," he said walking to her bedside. Smiling, he continued, "The nurses tell me you are fidgeting and eager to be up."

Blushing, she returned his smile and said quietly, "I am."

"Well how about we get you up and into the favorite mode of transportation this hospital, well, any hospital has," he replied lightly as he brought the wheel chair over.

Raising his hand to forestall any comment, "It's this or another day in bed."

He grinned when she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright you win. Anything to get out of this da… uh, bed", she said with embarrassment.

Horatio smiled to himself as went over to her small closet and grabbed the robe hanging there. Helping Sloane into it, he held out his hand.

Smiling shyly "Why thank you Sir Galahad," she said with a hint of humor in her voice.

Horatio coughed and blushed. "In that case, Ma'am, your chariot waits."

"Touché, Horatio," she said grinning.

Grabbing his hand and holding her side, she grimaced as she stood and slowly moved to the wheelchair. Horatio frowned when he grasped how thin she was. As she sat down, Horatio schooled his features and asked, "Doing okay?"

"I'm good," she said.

"This hospital has undergone many changes," Horatio said conversationally as he grabbed a blanket. He noticed Sloane's confused look. "When it was first built, it was during an era where healing and mending was very institutional," he continued as they descended in the elevator and walked down the hall.

"At the time, nature was considered contrary to healing because it, well it was nature. You know, dirty and unsanitary. However, as time changes, so do some attitudes. Studies revealed patients heal faster, physically and emotionally with the natural environment around them," he said softly. Stopping before a set of frosted glass doors, he leaned down with the blanket and placed it on Sloane's lap.

Going through the doors, Sloane gasped. It was the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. She couldn't help but breathe deeply, feeling all the tension remove itself from her shoulders as she inhaled the earthy scent of grass and the heady perfume of flowers. She could hear a small fountain bubbling and birds chirping overhead.

Realizing they had stopped, she looked around for Horatio and found him bringing over two mugs of coffee.

"Horatio, I… Thank you. I needed this," she said sincerely.

"I know."

He allowed the small smile to grace his eyes when he saw the question on her lips. "Sloane, my dear whether or not you know this, your character screams 'outdoors'. My work has brought me into contact with many men and women and I can't recall ever associating nature with a person, until now," he said softly.

"Oh," she said. "Am I really that obvious?" She smiled as he nodded his head emphatically.

She was grateful he didn't say anything more. He seemed to know she needed the quiet stillness and tranquility associated with this garden and sat in companionable silence and would do so until she was ready to talk.

Horatio watched Sloane visibly relax and found himself relaxing too. Draining the last of his coffee, he set the mug on the bench beside him. _Sloane is committing everything to memory. I don't blame her. This place could pass for a Garden of Eden. She is almost ready, _he thought _as he watched her take a deep breath. You can't tell me anything new sweetheart. I have either seen it or lived through it. Have I shown you enough of my quality? It's not always easy to share even if you want to because those that want to hear can't always listen. Have I shown enough of myself to her, _he asked_. Can she see I can do both – listen and hear?_

As he was observing Sloane, she was observing him too. She saw him relax. She felt his compassion and his patience. She saw the deep lines and grooves in his face. _A life of pain, _she thought_. His shoulders are broad and have carried much. His eyes are alive. They show great compassion but I can't help but wonder if they can't also instill great fear in an enemy. There is sadness residing in them and something else I can't put my finger on. A hint of darkness, she asked herself. _

_It's now or never_, she thought_. _

Horatio straightened when he heard Sloane ask him, "Have you ever seen death, Horatio?"

Unsure of the question's context, he replied, "If you mean have I witnessed death, the answer is yes. If you mean have I come close to death myself, the answer is again yes. If however, you mean have I seen death in the sense Death as an individual, I can say honestly, I have."

Watching him as he answered, she nodded. "Yes that's exactly what I mean. Did you recognize Death?"

"Not at first," he said quietly. "I had to lose someone first before I recognized Death's face."

Sloane reached out and put her hand on his arm. "I understand," she said simply. Looking into her eyes, Horatio saw the truth and waited for her to continue. He saw her shiver slightly. Reaching over, he grasped her hand. "I'll be right back."

She looked up when she felt an added weight of a blanket added to her shoulders. She smiled gratefully.

He said, "We can go back inside if you wish."

"No. I need this garden to finish. It grounds me," she said quietly. Horatio nodded in understanding.

"After I was placed into foster care, I didn't know what to expect. I had heard of the horror stories but at the same time, I was just…" she sighed, "I was just glad to be away from them. I was 15 and only had three years until I was legally an adult. To my way of thinking nothing could be worse than what I had lived through already.

"I didn't know it but I had a chip the size of a boulder on my shoulder. The first place didn't work out so well."

Horatio raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side.

"Oh it wasn't bad but they were, essentially looking for a babysitter. They had four kids under the age of 10 and emotionally I couldn't handle the responsibility. I knew I couldn't but I didn't know how to say it, so I uh… I uh, acted out.

"I never said a word. I gave them attitude. I stayed in the attic, which had been converted into a bedroom for me. If the memories got the better of me, I would stomp across the floor, regardless of the hour, pick something up and hurl it across the room.

"They couldn't handle me and soon I was picked up by a social worker. She gave me the spiel and made me feel guilty for having these feelings. I was moved in and out of a few more homes in a very short time.

"Eventually, they had exhausted their supply of homes save one. It was frowned on as it was an Indian couple, an older couple at that. They didn't like to "mix" I was told, and because this was the last place I could go, I had better toe the line.

"I wasn't taken there. Instead the man came to me. I admit I was scared as hell but I wasn't going to let him know it. He picked up my bag, well brown paper sack and put it in the back of his pickup. He motioned me to get in. I almost didn't but I didn't want to go to the group home either. He waited until I got in. He nodded at me as if I had passed a test, which I guess I had.

"We stopped at the Co-op. He picked up supplies than in a quiet voice he asked to see my hands. I held them out and he told the clerk we needed two pairs of leather gloves, small mans or a medium woman's. He paid and we left. I held those gloves all the way to his home. It's silly but they were like gold to me. I had never had a new thing in all my life and there I was holding not one, but two pair of new gloves. Everything I owned was Ronnie's hand-me-downs."

Horatio squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"His wife was waiting for us as we drove up. Getting out, I noticed how poor it was compared to town and yet I felt a warmth there I had never experienced. His wife immediately came over to me and gave me a hug and led me by the hand and took me inside. He brought my sack in and sat it down.

"They introduced themselves as Henry and Annie Two Hawk. There was only one rule: no lying. Annie then showed me to my room in the back of the house. It had a twin bed, a small chest of drawers a closet and a desk. The view Horatio was stunning. It was on the northeast corner of the house. It overlooked the entire valley and I remember opening the window and breathing in the air.

"I then thought better of it and closed the window in case it wasn't allowed. You see, in my house, windows were to remain closed. If Dad was home and I had opened my window or if he wasn't and Mom saw it…" her voice trailed off.

"Hey, how about a refill on that coffee?" he asked. Sloane nodded appreciatively. "Would you like a snack?" Sloane was shaking her head no when her stomach growled. Horatio laughed. "What do you like?"

"Anything," she said. She couldn't help but chuckle too.

Returning with the coffee, two cinnamon rolls and fruit, he looked for somewhere to put it down, when a nurse appeared with a TV tray. "I thought you might need this, Sir" she said. She blushed when Horatio graciously thanked her.

Sloane was smiling when Horatio looked down at her. Furrowing his eyebrows and lips turned up some, he asked, "What?"

Shaking her head, "You have quite the effect on the nurses, Horatio." Seeing him blush made her smile even bigger. _It's worth a little teasing, _Horatio thought_, as he saw the smile reach her eyes, lighting them up. _

Sloane nibbled on the cinnamon roll, enjoying and savoring the sweet treat. Horatio grinned again when she inhaled the coffee's aroma and sighed. _She does love her coffee, _he thought_._

"Henry and Annie were good people", she said suddenly.

"We worked hard sunrise to sunset. After our first lunch together, Henry handed me my gloves and I followed him to the small barn. He showed me how to saddle and ride the horse I would eventually call mine. While he showed me the way of the prairie, Annie taught me the way of the home."

A small warm graced Sloane's face and Horatio was startled with the transformation. _That smile belongs on her face,_ he thought.

"I remember walking home from the bus stop one day," she continued softly. "I could see Henry on the bluff above the house and he was building something. My spine was tingling with curiosity but as I got closer to the house, I could smell the fresh baked cookies." Sloane smiled affectionately.

"When I opened the door, it occurred to me, I wasn't reluctant, scared or apprehensive. I was happy! I was happy and I was home," she said.

* * *

_Annie crossed the small room and hugged her. "How was your day, Sloane?"_

_"It was good. I got a B on my biology test," she said. Annie clapped her hands together and exclaimed proudly, "I knew you could do it!"_

_Sloane still wasn't used to the praises and hung her head slightly with Annie's proclamation. "Sloane look at me," Annie said gently. Raising her eyes, Annie smiled and continued. "You work hard to get the marks you get, and we are proud of you. When you learn something, you learn it well and grades don't always reflect what is learned." Annie hugged her again._

_"What's Henry building?"_

_"That is a surprise. Now, finish your snack and go do your chores," Annie said with a glint in her eyes._

_Going into her room, she flung the window open, suddenly remembering the first time she had and was scared of the consequences. Sitting at the table, she heard Annie mutter something. Henry got up and helped her open the kitchen window. He looked at her, "If that bedroom window gives you trouble, let me know and we will fix it so it opens easier for you."_

_"You mean," she stammered, "its okay to open the window?"_

_Henry and Annie exchanged a look, "Of course it is. If you have any questions or are uncertain of anything, you ask. We promise Sloane, you won't get into any trouble asking questions," Henry said in his deep soft spoken voice._

_Sloane could only nod._

_Looking out the window, Sloane realized how far she had come from the person she had been. Henry and Annie taught her by example. They were patient, kind and most of all, they were caring and she felt it. _

_Changing quickly, she snagged another cookie and headed for the barn._

_She had just finished mucking the stalls when she heard Henry come in. _

_Like Annie, he gave her a hug and asked of her day. Each time he gave her his full attention, asking questions and taking an interest in her. _

Horatio gently brought her back from her reverie. Judging from the smile, he guessed it was a good memory. "If I had to, I would guess you considered them your parents as they gave you the home you had only read about," he said. How many times had he wished to be taken from the only home he knew while he was growing up, or at least to have one parent taken away?

Sloane heard the understanding in his voice, "Yes I did. They were everything. They were warm and open with their affection. They didn't judge. They were strict but fair. They were patient and kind," she replied affectionately. "I'll never forget how heavenly it felt. You know? I finally had found 'home'."

Horatio heard the quiet sob and patiently waited until finally he had to prompt her. Gently he asked, "What happened, Sloane?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Silently Sloane closed her bedroom door and returned to sit in her bed. She had stoked the fire in the woodstove and made a pot of coffee, a cup of which she brought with her. She smiled as she looked out the window. She didn't have curtains, nor did she want them; besides, she didn't have to worry about neighbors._

_She sighed as she sipped her hot coffee, its warmth dissipating the chill in her body. Her east-facing room was always cold in the mornings, more so because she closed her door at night. Her nightmares were fewer but she still had bouts of insomnia and she didn't want to wake this wonderful couple who had welcomed her into their home._

_She sat up straighter as she saw the brilliant yellow orange sun break the horizon, its rays streaking across the snow covered prairie towards her. It was a sight she never tired of nor took for granted. Bowing her head, Sloane said a small prayer of thanks. It was something she had started recently, after reading one of those self-help books. _

_She had grown tired of reading them. However the wording changed the sentiment was the same. Frustrated, she had put the book down only to pick it up once more. She flipped through the pages, haphazardly reading passages. One phrase in particular caught her eye. "Take time to be aware of the good and bad, however trivial. Acknowledge the bad and how it has affected you; equally, acknowledge the good and its effects. Be honest with yourself as you do this." There was more to the statement but Sloane had set the book back down on her desk, her mind turning that singular piece of advice round and round again._

_Taking the passage to heart, she decided to list everything good in her life. The list, she realized, was larger than she thought. Of course she had Henry and Annie, the animals, mother-nature, her life, a home and food; but there were also a few quirky ones. She had included open windows, the absence of a curfew, new gloves, new clothes, school, books and drawing paper. _

_She had come home from school one day to find a sketch pad and pencil set on her desk. "I thought you might like this instead of the newspaper –Henry." She didn't know what to do or how she would repay him. That night during supper, she asked Henry what she owed him. To her surprise, he put his fork down. Giving her concern great consideration he said, "Draw me something good that I can hang in the living room." Wide-eyed, she nodded and silently vowed it would be the best she could do._

_She had been diligent in her artwork since then. She read every book the library had and what they didn't have, they obtained through nearby libraries. She had all kinds of sketches on her walls. As she looked at them she realized she was slowly improving and was humbly proud of her progress. _

_I am 16 today, she thought. Today, Henry and Annie take me to the bluff above the house. I wonder what can be up there, she asked herself. I don't know what to expect and never have I been so excited or so nervous._

_Getting up, she dressed in jeans, flannel shirt and wool socks. Opening her door, she immediately felt the warmth of the main room. Looking across into the kitchen, she could see Annie getting breakfast ready and Henry was bringing in another arm-load of wood. He smiled when he saw her._

"_Happy Birthday, Sloane," he greeted. Putting the wood down, he moved across the room and enveloped her in a hug that was uniquely Henry. He has the best hugs, she thought. Feeling Annie's hand on hers, she turned into yet another warmth-filled hug. _

"_Today is a good day," Annie said while grabbing Sloane's hand and leading her to the kitchen table. Smelling the sausage and potatoes cooking, Sloane's stomach gave a mighty rumble. Henry laughed. "My stomach too, makes its hunger heard," he said. As they ate, there was quiet talk and laughter amongst them._

_After finishing breakfast, they all worked to clean the kitchen. Sloane was unaware Henry had slipped away until he had returned with two gifts in hand. Immediately, she began to tear up. Annie led her by the hand to the living room couch while Henry placed the presents on the small coffee table. He went back to the kitchen and returned with three mugs of coffee. _

"_I, I uh, I" ... she stuttered. She looked and saw nothing but love and warmth on their faces. Annie gave Sloane a quick hug. "Go on now. Open your birthday gifts," she said. Nodding and with trembling hands, she picked up the bigger of the two packages. What in the world? It's so heavy, she thought. _

_Slowly and carefully she removed the gift wrap. Her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the gasp and failing. "Oh Annie, it's beautiful!" Inside was a hand-made patchwork rag quilt. She remembered Annie had been sewing on this for some time and Sloane had even learned to sew while helping with its squares. She looked into the merriment of Annie's eyes. Without hesitation she hugged Annie for all she was worth. Had she been looking toward Henry, she would have seen his knowing look of seeing someone overcoming a hurdle. _

_With tears rolling down her face, she wiped them away almost embarrassed but then she saw Annie also had tears. She pulled the quilt from its box. The colors of browns, greens and rusty reds reminded her of the earth. It was made from scraps and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Reverently, she folded the quilt and placed it beside her._

_As she reached for the next gift, she hesitated and looked at Henry. He smiled and nodded encouragingly and she picked it up. It was a small box with only a simple bow on it. Removing the lid, she reached in and removed a small object. How can one person be so blessed? she asked herself. _

_Gently unfolding the tissue paper from the object, Sloane was immediately enchanted with the hand-carved figurine she held in her hand. It was a hummingbird perched on a blade of grass. The detail was exquisite. She tenderly held it in her hands, absently rubbing it. "Did you make this?" she asked. As Henry nodded, Sloane put the figurine on top of the quilt and rushed over to him and hugged him fiercely._

"_You're welcome, Sloane," he said softly. "Now you go get your jacket, we have another surprise for you." _

"_This is more than I ever expected. I can't possibly accept more," she said._

"_This is something for us all. Now go on, get your jacket and meet us outside." Sloane nodded and picked up her gifts. Once in her room, she put the figurine on her desk and the quilt at the foot of the bed. She sighed. So many things have changed, she thought. I wish you were here, Ronnie. I would give up all of this to have you back, she thought wistfully._

_Henry and Annie were standing hand in hand, quietly talking. She smiled when she saw Henry lean across and gently kissed Annie on top of the head. Annie giggled. Hearing her come outside, they motioned her to come as they began the small trek to the other waiting surprise._

_Once atop of the bluff, Sloane saw a small hut- like structure. There was a trail of smoke coming from a tiny chimney. She heard rustling behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Annie and Henry remove their coats. They wore what looked like ceremonial shirts underneath. _

_Annie came over to stand by her. "We know you have questions, child," Annie began. "This is your 16__th__ birthday. This birthday is unlike any other. You are no longer a child and not yet an adult. In days past, a child was considered a woman when she began her moon, her cycle. She was taken to another part of the camp and was taught many things during her first moon. We cannot do what was done then, but we can do something else." Annie's voice was soft, loving and compassionate._

_Henry kindly took over. His voice, a deep and resonant tenor, was akin to a warm blanket draped across her shoulders on a cold night. It too was soft, loving and compassionate. "Sloane, through this door, we offer a new beginning and the shedding of the past." _

_Opening the door, Annie went inside. "It is up to you child," he said. Sloane's heart was rapidly beating a staccato, threatening to come out of her chest. Henry's smile was a balm upon her soul and slowly she followed Annie inside._

_Henry followed as well. He caught Annie's eye as he looked over the top of Sloane's head and nodded. Off to the side, Annie picked up a braid of sweet grass out of a small basket, and handed it to Henry. As Henry moved over to the small bed of coals in the center of the hut, Annie helped Sloane remove her jacket. Taking Sloane by the hand, they joined Henry who was kneeling beside the coals._

_The tendrils of the smoldering sweet grass moved around the hut and its occupants. As Sloane inhaled the scent, she felt her nerves calm, her pulse slow and her breathing even out. Inhaling deeply once more, she let Henry's native tongue move in and out of her consciousness as the breeze settles the dust on everything it touches. _

_Annie translated as Henry chanted. It was a rite of passage, a ritual initiating change and it was a ceremony celebrating life – not life as it was lived but life as it will be lived. While Henry chanted, Sloane saw her previous life dance in the coals before her. She watched as that life became smaller and dimmer. She felt different. She felt lighter. She felt renewed._

_Suddenly she smiled. She looked up in amazement as she gave words to her feelings. Renewal, she thought. This was a ceremony of renewal. Henry and Annie brought the ritual to an end. Henry took Sloane's right hand and Annie her left, then Henry and Annie joined hands. Tenderly Henry said, "I am Stand's Alone and this is my wife, Annie Good Voice. We are honored and proud to meet you Sloane of the Rest and Cleansing Moon. We welcome you into our home as honored daughter. Ours is yours."_

_Sloane was stunned into an awed silence. While trying to decide what to say, Henry stood and retrieved a small package. It was wrapped in a paper bag and tied with a string. Opening it, Sloane removed a linen shirt. It was a bone color with hummingbirds embroidered in a colorful band around the hem. It was a shallow scoop neck with a small v-notch and ribbons sewn in. Henry and Annie had similar shirts. It's a 'family' shirt, she thought. She smiled as she recognized and genuinely understood the full meaning of the ceremony. _

_They gave me time to grieve my loss – my sister and my parents. They gave me time to adapt. They gave me encouragement when I was lost. They gave me understanding when I had none. They gave me compassion. And now they are giving me something I only read about in books – family and unconditional love. Without hesitation, she put the shirt on, smiling – truly smiling for the first time in a long time. She knew she would still have nightmares but now she understood she didn't have to endure them alone. _

* * *

Horatio's voice, so much like Stands Alones' voice, brought her back from her memories.

"Oh I just miss them so," she said. "They passed away two years ago and there are moments when I feel their presence so strongly, it's as if they are with me."

Timidly, afraid he would laugh, she said, "They were with me, you know, when _he_ was trying so hard to own me."

Horatio's eyes narrowed. _Own,_ he thought,_ is a different word to use. She could have used 'abused' or 'tortured'. There are so many other words or phrases to describe what she has been through. She didn't. It's odd she specifically chose 'own'. _Horatio had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I could feel their love and hear their gentle voices. They told me it wasn't my time and that I couldn't give up." Expecting to hear a laugh and hearing none, Sloane raised her eyes to meet his. She had never seen such compassion and understanding in a pair of eyes since Henry and Annie.

Gently, he took her hands in his. "Sloane, you need to tell me what happened."

"I know," she whispered. "It's just been so long and I am so scared."

His empathy shining like a beacon in the night, Horatio said, "We face this thing together. How about that? We face it together, alright?"

Once again, she was moved by Horatio's sincerity, and nodded.

* * *

The watcher waited. He was good at waiting only now he was tiring of the game. _It was fun in the beginning. She was so easily manipulated. _Chuckling cruelly_, I wrapped her emotions around my finger. I have never felt such power as I did when I was in control._

_I AM IN CONTROL, _he thought. Feeling the power course through his body with the surge of anger, he viciously kicked the body beneath him once more. _I will have my vengeance sayeth me, _he laughed maniacally.

Locking the door behind him, he moved into the shadows, blending and becoming one with them. There would be no trace he was ever there.

* * *

Taking a sip of water, Sloane waited for Horatio to return.

Trembling slightly, she pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders. She watched Horatio sit down and hand her a cup of tea. She wrapped her hands around the mug attempting to dispel the chill which she knew was psychological.

"Four years ago, I was hired by the BLM as a contract laborer. They needed local people to count deer populations. Part of the agreement was using their program on my computer. To do that, I had to arrange a time to go into their office and have a techie install it. The closest office was in the county seat, nearly a hundred miles away.

"I needed to get some shopping done so I decided to make a good day of it. The building is a conglomerate of all the federal agencies for the area. Social Security, DEQ, FBI, BLM, USFS and some I wasn't familiar with. I knew from reading the news, there was an increased federal presence." Seeing Horatio's furrowed brow she stated, "Drugs."

"Ah," Horatio replied, immediately understanding the situation.

"Anyway, I mistakenly went in the wrong door and literally ran into someone." Blushing slightly she continued, "He was the epitome of tall, dark and good- looking. I immediately apologized and he smiled and said, 'No problem.' I started past him, when he put a hand on my arm. He asked if I needed help but I was too embarrassed and shook my head no.

"I admit," she blushed, "I found myself thinking about him. I didn't know who he was so it was easy to fantasize and …" Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

Horatio squeezed her hand. "Been there, done that."

Smiling in relief she continued. "It was unusually cold that fall. The deep frost had come early and the deer were on the hayfields and the counting was easy. I was almost ashamed it was so easy, but then the work afforded me access to places I wouldn't normally have. So not only was I counting, I was taking pictures during the sunrises and sunsets. Sometimes I would leave early allowing myself time to sketch.

"Once a week I would watch my best friend's daughter. Kiera was mentally retarded and was becoming more aggressive. Toni needed a few hours to herself and I was happy to oblige. Kiera's smile and laugh were contagious and I adored her.

"I was going through my pictures one night after Kiera had fallen asleep. This last group was taken from a small hill overlooking the river and each picture was part of a series to capture the sun's descent. Since it was private property, I was confused when I saw cars. Of course I was thinking of the local kids in search of a party spot. Knowing the location, I decided to keep an eye on it.

Sloane sighed. "That was my first mistake, assuming it was kids." Draining the last of her tea, she fidgeted unsure how to express what happened next.

Horatio, sensing her unease asked, "Do you need a break?"

"No, I don't. It's more that I don't want to tell this again," she said honestly. Horatio knew she was on the cusp. "Honey, do you remember what I promised," he asked? She looked at him and slowly nodded.

"That hasn't changed. I promised help. I can only give it if I know everything. You're so close, please don't stop now. Let's do this together. I don't know what others have said or done once you told them what you are attempting to tell me. I know what I won't do. I won't laugh. I have seen the injuries. Those alone speak of the reality. Alright?"

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Sloane exhaled slowly. "Okay," she said meekly. _You were right Henry, _she thought. _You said someone would listen and not laugh._

"Two weeks later I saw the cars again. I was watching with binoculars and recognizing none of the cars, I began to feel a sense of unease. It was a meeting and an exchange. I was witnessing a drug deal. Two of the cars had bins which were unloaded from the trunks and opened.

"A man from a different vehicle randomly selected a bag or two from each bin and went to yet another car. Several minutes later, the man returned to the group. There were raised voices and something went drastically wrong. The next thing I knew the men beside the bins were on the ground and then I heard the weapons' fire. I watched another man move to each downed man, point and shoot."

Sloane was on the verge of hyperventilating and was wringing her hands together. Horatio took hold of both of her hands and squeezed. "Look at me, Sloane," he commanded gently. "Look where you are. It's only you and me."

Sloane slowly calmed down. "Do you know what it's like to see someone shot, then fall and then hear the sound?" Horatio squeezed her hand, knowing he didn't have to answer. It was a rhetorical question.

"Something gave me away as I saw one of the men point in my direction. I turned and ran. They were on the other side of the river and it would take them at least ten minutes to back track to the road and in that ten minutes I could be anywhere.

"I was home twenty minutes later. Henry immediately knew something was wrong. I told him what I had seen. We decided I had to go the police once I calmed down. Henry was almost blind so he couldn't take me in and Annie had never learned to drive.

"I jumped at every little noise and was pacing back and forth. Henry always kept sweet grass nearby and threw a small braid into the woodstove. You see, in Indian cultures, sweet grass is medicinal and ceremonial. It has a sweet vanilla-like scent and can be used to calm anxiety and invite good spirits.

"Once I had calmed down enough to sit, Annie made tea for us. At Henry's urging, I began to write down everything I had seen. It was hard and several times I had to stop, get up and pace before I could finish it. It was also cathartic.

"I was finally composed enough to drive into town. Henry and Annie wished me well and I left feeling as if I had just condemned myself to some unspeakable path. In many ways I guess that was true but now, after so much, I wonder if it was the beginning of some kind of punishment for not stopping Ronnie's suicide. I know it's not logical but it often feels that way."

Horatio nodded in complete understanding. _How many times have I said the same thing when it comes to the loss and loneliness in my life and my involvement with the deaths of my parents? How many times have I sought answers only to have more loss thrust on me? The Bishop said I will know. The truth is I will never know because I don't feel as if I can ever atone._

"Horatio, are you alright?" Horatio dipped his head, abashed he had been caught in a moment. He raised his eyes to hers, "I'm fine, honey. I was thinking." Sloane frowned slightly. _He knows, doesn't he? He knows exactly what I'm feeling. _

"I told the local police what I saw. I was so glad Henry told me to write it down. It solidified the sequence of events in my mind and my story never wavered. The sheriff kept asking me questions while his deputies investigated. One returned and the two spoke quietly off to the side.

"The sheriff confronted me. They found nothing, absolutely nothing. They couldn't be in the right place then, I countered. I got in the sheriffs pickup and showed them the way. I was confused. They were in the right area. I showed the Sheriff the hill I was on. He sent two officers over to look around.

"Horatio, there wasn't anything. There weren't any bodies, or blood or anything one would expect to see. I remember standing there, replaying the event in my mind. Eventually the sheriff approached me and asked I accompany him over to the hill. I felt as if a cruel joke had been played on me. There, where I had been kneeling, was a small baggie." Sloane laughed sardonically.

Sarcastically Sloane continued. "I was suddenly the guilty party. I saw four men murdered," she spat. "And you know what they found in that little baggie? Weed! They found weed. Suddenly the tables were reversed. My sister's suicide came out. My biological parents came said I didn't know how to tell the truth if my life depended upon it. Social workers said I was a problem child. Henry and Annie defended me but it would stand to reason that they would so -after all, I lived with them and they gained assistance from the state.

"How dare they," Sloane cried in sudden anger. "How dare they say Henry and Annie cared only for reasons of money! They were the only family I knew." Sloane's defenses finally broke. She began to weep. "I could take them attacking me, but not my family. I was called the crazy attention-seeking sister. I was a user. If I used weed, then what else was I using? Suddenly any thought of murder was gone and people talked about the crazy, drug- using woman."

Sloane watched his face, unable to contain the tears, "Horatio I didn't use. Please believe me," she implored. "I told the truth."

"I believe you," he said. Gently, he embraced her and, for the first time, Sloane truly mourned.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Horatio looked at his watch and scrubbed his face with his hands. Standing up he heard his joints crack and pop. Stretching slowly, his back snapped loudly. Twisting side to side Horatio felt some of the achiness leave his back. _God, I hate getting old_, he muttered to himself. _What's worse though – getting old or paperwork? Hmmm. What's the old saying, 'Six one way and a half dozen the other way.' Either way, both are a hazard,_ he grumbled. Looking down he sighed, knowing his now empty 'In Box' would be full when he returned in a few hours.

Putting the journal Sloane had given him in his briefcase, Horatio wearily shut the lights off and closed his door. Horatio understood Sloane's predicament. He had been there once when Walter Dresden tried to frame him. The difference was he had his team behind him despite what Rick tried. Sloane had no one except her family. _Biology doesn't necessarily mean family. I can't imagine ever hanging Raymond out to dry… _His thoughts trailed off once more as he felt eyes watching him. _What the hell?_ he thought. Trying to appear as if he hadn't noticed, Horatio got in his truck and removed his service weapon from its holster and laid it on the seat beside him.

* * *

The watcher laughed silently as he watched the red-headed cop through his scope. _Local cops are the same everywhere. They don't think for themselves and they don't know the danger lurking in the shadows. It would be so easy to load and shoot_, he thought arrogantly as he dry-pulled the trigger.

He watched the truck leave the parking lot. He dismantled his weapon, confidant the cop had not felt anything out of the ordinary. _He's just putting his time in until retirement. He won't be a problem, _the watcher thought. _I wasn't sure last night after he dropped his keys. Tonight should have had him on edge and there was no reaction. Maybe I will have some fun before I end the game and start fresh. Yes indeed, a new game. Out with the old and in with the new, I always say. _

* * *

Eric sighed as he looked around the hotel room. He knew without hesitation this scene would play out like the other one. The room, according to the motel database, would – should be vacant. They would find no trace. Horatio's suggestion of checking the locks proved a good thought. These older motels still employed keys instead of card locks. He knew he would find the lock had been jimmied.

He had paired the newbie Officer Jenkins with Grant. While they were conducting interviews, he would start the room. _The room is too pristine to be anything other than a dump site_, he thought. Snapping another picture of the door lock he slowly moved inward. Working steadily, he cleared a path to the body. Without the ME present, the body was off limits.

He looked at his phone. He didn't want to make the call yet he knew he had too.

"H," he started and smiled. "Yeah H, I'm fine. Look we may have a serial. I have another scene which by first look is the same as the first. Older Motel, keys instead of cards, dump site. I'm still waiting for the ME but yeah it's not looking good," Eric stated bleakly.

"Ok, I'll ask the ME to wait should he get here before you. And H, I'm sorry," Eric said. Even though he knew his brother-in-law didn't mind, he hated to interrupt him. Horatio had a rare sense of knowing when someone was in trouble – real trouble. With the amount of time his brother-in-law had been spending at the hospital, Eric knew this was no exception. He was just waiting for the word to start investigating.

Eric continued to process the room when he heard voices outside. Sighing in relief, he was glad to have Horatio here. If this was a serial he would gladly hand the case over to his brother-in-law. He didn't feel he was ready even though the evidence was the leader. He didn't have Horatio's instincts. His own were good but Horatio's were in a class by themselves.

"Eric," Horatio's deep voice quietly called to him.

Looking up, Eric pointed to the path he had cleared. Stepping lightly, Horatio was soon beside him. "You're out late, brother," he said.

"Greaves called in sick and I'm on call," Eric replied neutrally.

Horatio picking up the tension tilted his head slightly. "You don't believe him?"

"I don't know what to think, H. It just seems odd he calls in sick every time I'm the person on call. I talk to the others and he doesn't call in with them. Coincidence I guess." Horatio heard the skepticism.

"Does he still hold the grudge?"

"I don't know, H. It sure feels like it on nights like tonight."

"Well, brother, let's forget it for now and you tell me what we have." Eric smiled at 'we'. "Thanks H," he replied sincerely.

"No worries."

The ME uncovered the body and it was apparent the young woman had been bound, hand and foot and horribly abused. Horatio and Eric knew they were looking at a serial killer and Horatio immediately felt the stress and the urgency from those higher ups to get this solved. He understood the pressure the brass would exert but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Horatio and Eric returned to the lab, filed and logged what they had.

Stopping at the door, Horatio paused. "Eric, one of us better have a clear head tomorrow. I changed your shift to start at 10 instead of 8. It's not much, but at least it's a couple of extra hours."

Smiling appreciatively he replied, "Thanks."

Horatio nodded. "Not a problem. Sleep well, brother." Horatio watched Eric drive away while making a mental note to check the employee records sometime tomorrow. Stepping outside, he waited. Sensing nothing, he made his own way home.

* * *

_"You know I will find you, Sloane. I always do. You are mine. DO NOT FORGET IT!"_

Sloane jerked awake. Wild-eyed she looked around. The room was dark and the hall outside quiet. Sinking back into her pillow, she willed her heart to slow its pace.

_Why don't the nightmares stop? I can't even escape him in my sleep, _she thought hopelessly.

* * *

Horatio carefully watched his tail as he drove home. Normally a fifteen minute drive took forty-five with the numerous turns and back-trailing he had done. Satisfied no one had followed him, Horatio finally relaxed.

He was bone tired and a chill was slowly pervading the depths of his soul filling him with anxiety and a foreshadowing sense of dread. The rain, while normally cleansing, seemed to heighten his icy grip of trepidation. Logically he knew where it stemmed from. _Not quite though, _he thought_. The mere thought of a serial killer stalking our streets is reason enough for worry but this sense of disquiet… _his thoughts trailed off as he opened his condo door.

This was one of those few times he could say he was glad to be home. Keeping the lights off, Horatio crossed the living room to the French doors. Setting his briefcase on the bar, he cracked them open and inhaled the fresh air. As he watched the lightning flash across the dark skies, his fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and then removed his weapon. Reluctantly he moved away from the doors and slowly walked down the hall toward his bedroom.

Stripping, he threw his clothes into the laundry basket and turned the shower on. He stepped in and immediately sighed aloud as the hot water hit his tension ridden shoulders. Ducking his chin to chest, the cascading water slowly eased and soothed the tautness in his neck and back. He stood there another few minutes before  
finally picking up the bar of soap.

Emerging from the steam-filled bathroom, Horatio felt somewhat better. Putting on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, he went back out to the darkened kitchen and finally turned a light on. Squinting, he dimmed the light and put the tea kettle on. His stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since brunch with Sloane.

_Sloane, _he thought_. That's my source of disquiet. Why? Is it her or is it the situation? There is something I can't quite put my finger on. _Glancing over to his briefcase he instinctively knew the rest of the answers would be found there.

Jumping slightly when he heard the tea kettle, Horatio turned the burner off. He kept a variety of instant soups in the cupboard for nights such as these which were more often than he cared to admit. Adding the water to the cup of soup, he set it aside. Next he made a small pot of coffee, and then took both soup and coffee to the table.

He turned the kitchen light off and sat facing the French doors. He ate the soup slowly while he watched nature's show. _Absolute power, _he thought when he saw a particularly large lightning bolt arc across the sky, followed by the loud clap of thunder. Finishing the last of the soup he felt sleepy despite the coffee. He tossed the soup carton away and washed his cup out.

Going into the living room, he lit the gas fireplace and lay down on the couch. It wasn't long before Horatio was fast asleep.

_ 'Hey,' he said softly, 'you aren't thinking about standing me up are you?' His knew she wasn't going to make it and as he looked down at his hands, all he could see was blood. He tried to rub it off when he felt a hand on his shoulder. _

Horatio sat upright, his heart hammering in his chest. _Sleep is underrated, _he thought. Feeling cold, he went to his bedroom and retrieved a sweatshirt. Turning on the kitchen light, he started a fresh pot of coffee.

He opened Sloane's journal and even though she had given him the journal, Horatio still felt as if he were invading her privacy. Sipping the coffee, Horatio thumbed through the pages first, noting the entries were printed and the various sketches throughout. He smiled as he saw Annie and Henry through her eyes. The sketch was candid and her love for them indisputable.

He frowned when he saw a different sketch. The man reminded him of her earlier words, "tall, dark and handsome" but this had an air of coldness. Looking closer, he couldn't escape the feeling of evil radiating off the man. Deciding this would be his starting point, Horatio began reading.

_Sept 30. I did something really stupid this morning. I snuck into 'their' house and into Ronnie's room. They have enshrined it. Candles and all. They still can't accept the fact her death is partly on them and their actions. I decided to look at my old room. Everything that could possibly remind them of me has been removed – even the blanket-blank wallpaper which they insisted upon. It shouldn't have surprised me but it did. I slapped the wall in frustration and heard something fall. I had forgotten the space Ronnie and I had made for our secrets. I went back into the Ronnie's room and moved the picture covering the hole. Luckily my arms were long enough to reach the small box. I haven't found the courage to open it yet. _

_Oct 3. Finally found the courage to open the box. She knew what she was going to do. I found my favorite picture of the two of us. "Forgive me, Sloane" was written on the back. Ronnie, I forgave you a long time ago. There was another picture of a guy, maybe a year or two older than Ronnie, and she had written "father" on it._

Horatio put his cup down realizing the implications of the simple word. This was the father of Ronnie's baby and the same young man who had knowingly taken advantage of a young woman and then laughed at her.

Horatio began to read again when his cell phone rang, startling him. He looked at the time and sighed. He frowned when he didn't recognize the number.

"Caine speaking," he answered tersely. Hearing the other persons' breathing he waited. "Who is this," he finally asked impatiently.

"She's mine. You ought to remember that. If not, we will be having some fun," a disembodied voice said followed by laughter.

Shocked, Horatio began to answer when his phone beeped, signaling the end of the call. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he immediately thought of Sloane. Racing to his bedroom he quickly changed into a pair of jeans. He grabbed his weapon and his keys, intent on getting to the hospital as quickly as possible.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Horatio ran in the doors and impatiently waited for the elevator. No sooner had the doors opened, he was in and pushing the button for Sloane's floor. He took a deep breath while he strummed his fingers across his holster. It was a small action, and a few colleagues claimed it was a nervous tic. It might have been, but the action served to focus him not rid him of nervous energy.

The doors opened and he immediately saw Barb. "Barb," he said quietly. She looked up and smiled then frowned as she took in his appearance.

"Horatio, are you alright? Is something wrong?" she asked hastily.

"I need to know if anyone has been to see Sloane tonight."

"She hasn't had any visitor's. Visiting hours was over several hours ago."

"Okay, thank you Barb," he said feeling his anxiety lessen somewhat. He started to turn away when he noticed the lab cart. "Barb, did she have any lab work done?"

Barb hesitated. This was a fine line and they both knew it. "Let me rephrase, ok? Was there a new tech on the floor tonight?"

Confused, Barb replied, "Why yes but that's not uncommon Horatio. We are a large hospital and we have people rotating floors all the time, students in training…" her voice trailed off as she saw him focus on the door to Sloane's room.

Turning back to face Barb, Horatio held his finger to his lips and pointed to her desk, and motioned she get behind it. Barb frowned but complied. Once she was safe, Horatio moved slowly toward the door. He paused and unholstered his weapon, and gently pushed the door open.

Horatio turned the light on and sighed inwardly with relief. Sloane was asleep. He moved to the bathroom and found it clear. He quickly looked around the room and zeroed in on the bedside table. A lab tray was sitting there, with his card on its surface and an x marked across his name, with the words "We will have some fun, you and I."

He left everything alone, shut the light off and quietly shut the door. He leaned back against the wall for a moment as he felt the adrenalin drain away. He stood straight and walked over to the desk.

"Barb, you can come out now," he said quietly.

"Lieu.. I mean Horatio, what the blazes is going on?" she asked.

"Barb do you recall anything at all about the unfamiliar lab tech? Was the person male or female? Height? Weight? Hair color?"

The intensity in his voice staved off any further questions. Barb tucked her chin to her chest and crossed her arms in thought. "He was tall, very tall. He was definitely over six foot. He had dark-wavy hair. I thought it was odd and I questioned him. He was polite and said there was a mix up with her lab work. He was sent to retake it if she was awake, otherwise wait until tomorrow morning. He was only in there a minute or two. He looked for me when he came out and shrugged his shoulders."

Horatio put his hand on Barb's shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "Thank you, Ma'am." Unobtrusively, Horatio looked around for cameras. Seeing none, he asked "Barb, do you have security cameras on the floors yet?" She shook her head no.

"We have them on the elevators, the stair wells, and the entrances, but there aren't any on the floors." Horatio smiled with the information. Lowering his voice, "Are you alright? I know I frightened you."

"Yes you did and I'm still shaking," she answered. "Is Sloane in danger?" she asked. The concern was obvious in her voice. Deciding to answer her truthfully, Horatio nodded. "The man left me a message and I need to help her, Barb. She needs protection. Can you help me with that?"

"I don't understand, Horatio."

"Is Sloane well enough to leave the hospital provided she has adequate care and rest?"

"Oh," said Barb and then understanding dawned. "OH, I see." She nodded. 'The doctor was going to talk to you both about her discharge today."

"Another question. Is there a room nearby that we can move Sloane into?"

Without hesitation, Barb nodded.

"Can you and I do this now?" Again, Barb nodded. "Thank you, Barb. You're terrific, you know that?" Barb flushed red with the praise she heard in his voice. "Horatio Caine if you were a few years older or me a few years younger…" Her voice trailed off and she cackled softly when she saw Horatio blush.

"Let's see about getting Sloane moved, shall we," she replied. Horatio gently stopped her, "Barb can we do this without logging it?" Barb frowned. "I suppose so, but it is her for safety we do log it," she stated quietly.

"I understand, Barb. However, since she is getting discharged today would a few hours matter?"

Horatio smiled softly as he watched her think for a moment. _She really is a good lady. I must do something for her when Sloane is safe, _he thought. _Perhaps a good dinner at a good restaurant would fit the ticket? I wonder when the last time she and her husband had a romantic night out._

"Horatio, I am not comfortable with this but I will help you. She is in trouble and a few hours should be alright. Any trouble though and I'm going to blame it on you and say you forced me to!"

Horatio couldn't stop the chuckle as he saw the mischievous glint in her eye. "I believe you would too, dear lady" he said.

"Darn straight I would," she replied cheekily.

Putting his arm around her, "Barb, thank you," he said sincerely. Leaning into him for a moment, Barb nodded. "C'mon_ Dr. _Caine," she said. "Let's get our patient moved."

"Yes Ma'am."

* * *

_The day was beautiful and promising to be a warm spring day. Looking sideways at Toni, Sloane could sense an underlying edginess within her friend. She also knew it would be pointless to ask as her friend would more than likely not answer. Being concerned Sloane knew she had to try._

"_Are you going to tell me what's wrong and why you're so nervous?"_

_Toni looked at her, and shrugged her shoulders. Sloane held her tongue. _

_They were approaching the neighborhood park when Toni announced in a matter of fact voice, "I want you to get me out of here – somewhere I can go and die. I prefer it be sooner, too. My life is hell and I see absolutely no point in continuing this farce called life. It is nothing but pain and anguish!"_

_Sloane was shocked, hurt, angry and utterly confused. She stopped walking, thankful for the sunglasses covering her eyes. She watched her friend who was so caught up in herself she didn't notice Sloane had stopped._

_Finally, Toni stopped and Sloane hurried to catch up to her._

"_How dare you ask me to help you die," she replied angrily. "HOW DARE YOU! You know my sister committed suicide and you dare ask this of me? What of Ciera? Or is she just part of the life you call a farce?"_

_Toni whipped around and slapped Sloane. "Don't you dare use Ciera against me! You said you would always be here to help me. Some help you are. You're just like the rest. All words and hot air and empty promises. You don't know the meaning of the word friend."_

_Sloane found herself standing at two graves. "Where were you when I needed you?" a disembodied voice asked. Whipping her head around, seeing no one, Sloane hung her head and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I was hurt and angry," she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. _

Sloane woke slowly, the vestiges of her memory-like dream hanging over her like a deep and heavy fog. Sitting up slowly she reached for the ever present water pitcher. As she drank she looked around the room, noticing it was different. Hearing a groan, she looked to her right and saw the red headed lieutenant sleeping, albeit uncomfortably in the chair beside her bed. _He is so much like Henry. He genuinely cares for his fellow man, yet it is easy to see his job is beginning to take its toll, _she mused to herself. She frowned suddenly as she had a flash of him becoming dark, out of reach, untouchable.

Shaking her head, she watched him sleep for a few minutes then let her thoughts drift back to the dream and the feeling someone had been in her room during the night. _Why am I in a different room? Maybe it wasn't my imagination after all. Oh God, please not again. No! Stop it, girl. You have someone in your corner now. You have someone who believes you. You aren't alone. That's been the problem in the past, don't make it so now. _Sloane calmed herself then looked to her right once more, hearing Horatio groan.

* * *

Eric was troubled. He had a distinct feeling they were dealing with a professional – someone who knew about forensics and acted accordingly. It was frustrating. Unless they could find something at the dump sites or on the victims, they had little hope of getting this guy. He scrubbed his face as he looked at the clock on the wall. He sighed as he shut his locker door. He needed a pick-me-up and a cup of cubano coffee was calling his name.

Sitting at the table he tried to sort his feelings on the case. The locks had been jimmied and Calleigh was working the tool marks. The motel records were being subpoenaed. The M.E. reports should be coming down the horn soon. It was a matter of waiting right now.

His thoughts soon drifted to his brother-in-law. Horatio had changed. He first noticed the change when Speed was lost. _Hell, _he thought_, I changed too. God knows my reckless behavior almost cost me my career, the lab's reputation, but it was H's reputation that was really on the line. He quietly stood by me and supported me. _ The next change came when he thought he solved his brother's murder only to find later, he was on the FBI payroll and H had to evacuate Raymond, Yelina and Ray Jr. out of the country.

The thought of Mari brought a flood of bittersweet memories. Her innocence and gentle teasing-like ways. The first time he had to explain the marijuana to H and then their subsequent meeting, whirlwind romance and marriage and her death. He had always suspected his brother-in-law asked Marisol to marry him because Marisol wanted to experience everything life had to offer, including marriage. Horatio never hinted as much, instead giving everything he had to making his sister happy and for that he was thankful. The toll on his friend, brother-in-law and mentor though, was huge. Eric frowned as he and others had noticed Horatio's distance from them. In many ways, he had become more brutal and less forgiving. There were no more jokes or smiles for that matter. The passion for justice he once exhibited was dwindling as was his compassion.

_Then again, _he thought as he considered the past few days. _I haven't seen H looking as weary as he has been lately. This woman seems to have reached him in a way the rest of us can't. Was it the way he found her or is there something more? _

The ring of his phone startled him. Looking at the name scrolling across the screen, he frowned.

"Yeah? He answered. "You got your dates screwed up, Greaves. I'm not on call tonight. Give it a rest. I know what you're doing. Your situation is your own fault, not mine." Eric smiled as he heard a string of expletives explode from the other end of the phone. Ending the connection, Eric finished his coffee and made his way to the lab.

* * *

While Sloane was bathing, Horatio went to his truck and got his kit. He had, after many years, realized the need as lab supervisor and his own dedication dictated he be available. His only concern was photographing the room and getting fingerprints as the volume of people in and out of her room would render much of the information useless. Add the fact, at this point in time, he was literally searching for a needle in the haystack. His attention was primarily on the nightstand, the bedside table, the arms of the bed and the door handles. He took pictures, dusted for prints and bagged his business card. Looking around the room, he had the sudden inspiration to check the small closet. Satisfied, he took everything back out to his truck.

As he sat waiting for the nurse to allow him back into Sloane's room, he closely watched the comings and goings around him. He watched the lab personnel come and go, always checking the person's chart first. In fact, everyone checked the chart first. Recalling what Barb had earlier said, he was now sure Sloane's torturer had found her and let everyone know it. The lack of following protocol, the catching of Barb's eye as he left Sloane's room and his marked business card spoke of arrogance and that somehow, a gauntlet had been thrown down. _Well, it's been picked up you sick bastard. You won't win this one. All of this speaks of experience and you may have had your fun before, but you have never encountered me and I WILL stop you, _he thought angrily.

"Lieutenant?"

Horatio looked up and saw the nurse nodding at him. He smiled his thanks, took a moment to compose himself and went into Sloane's room. Now they would wait for the Dr. and the orders releasing her from the hospital.

He quietly walked into the room and sat down. He could see Sloane was pensive and had noticed it when he woke earlier. He would ask, but first they needed to get her away from here. He was going to pull out all the stops. While others hadn't believed her, he had never seen the reason not too, and last night's little stunt verified everything as far as he was concerned. Once the evidence was at the lab they would have a good long talk and in the privacy of his office.

The door opened and Horatio cleared his voice, rousing Sloane from her thoughts.

The doctor approached the bed and asked a few questions, then took Sloane's vitals once more. Writing a few things in her chart, the doctor smiled as he looked at her. "How would you feel about going home?"

Sloane smiled and nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly her face fell as she realized as she had no home here. "Does it make a difference if I don't have a home?" she asked quietly. The doctor frowned and before he was able to reply, Horatio spoke up, "Doctor, may we have a moment please?" The doctor nodded and stepped outside.

"Sloane, I think you know me well enough. I am not going to hurt you. I have a home with an extra bedroom. It is yours for as long as you need." Horatio watched her closely.

"Why? Why do you offer me this, Horatio? You hardly know me. I can't prove a thing I have said and for all you know I'm some sort of nut case and could hurt you while you sleep."

Horatio was thinking best how to reply when he heard her quiet voice reply, "He found me didn't he? I wasn't dreaming last night."

Taking her hand, he decided honesty would serve well here. "Yes, he left a note in your other room. Sloane, if I have a hope of catching this guy, then you and I need to discuss everything you can remember – before, during and after your time with him." Horatio winced as he couldn't bring himself to say 'torture'.

"You have taken a chance with me," he said quietly. "Don't stop now. The more you tell me the better equipped I become. I won't let you down," he vowed.

Sloane didn't know what to say. What could she say? She nodded. Horatio squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're going to survive this, Sloane." Once again all she could do is nod.

Forty five minutes later, Horatio was walking inside to fetch Sloane. She and the nurse were waiting inside as he brought his truck to the entrance. He picked up the bag the hospital was sending home with her and her meager bag of belongings which included a dirty tee shirt, underthings, a coin purse and her laptop.

Opening the passenger door, Horatio stiffened. They were being watched. He grinned to himself as he helped Sloane inside. Walking around to the driver's side, Horatio climbed in. He looked around for a moment, and then checked to make sure Sloane was buckled up.

"You feel him, don't you?" she asked. "It's okay, you don't have to answer. I know you do," she said quietly. He could feel her trembles across the cab.

"Look at me," he stated. When she finally looked over, she gasped with the utter determination and the stark power she saw in his eyes. "We will get through this. We will get this guy. You will be free. You will have a future," he stated with conviction. Sloane continued to look at him and not once did his eyes waiver.

_Henry, he is the one you spoke of isn't he? You said I would get help from the most unlikely place and that I must tell this person everything so that we both survive. You said I would know by virtue of the eyes. I didn't understand, but I think I do now. This man's eyes are the windows to his soul when he chooses to lower his armor. Oh Henry, how I miss you! _

Sloane nodded and said somewhat shakily, "I believe you."

Horatio smiled and nodded. The transformation was so quick, Sloane wasn't even sure it had happened. He started his vehicle and pulled out, the first stop being the lab.

* * *

He had watched them leave the hospital without as much as a care. He didn't care where they had gone. He would always find his other. Always.

_Had the Red not seen his invitation and the revealing of himself?_ _Unbelievable!_ _Did he not see with whom he was playing?_ _Pity_, the Watcher thought sullenly. His fist slowly closed in rage with the thought that perhaps the message had been seen and ignored! _Death,_ he vowed, _would not be easy_. Shaking himself out of his Blue, he went to the Haven, his sanctum.

He was sitting in His rightful place. He leaned his head back as the colors consumed him, their energies enveloping him, leading him down a merry road. This was life at its fullest. They had shown him the one and destiny decreed their oneness. The Red had an unusual glow surrounding him and he would enjoy conquering it, diminishing its light and then bringing it into himself.

The colors were fantastic. They were swirling and whirling, almost elastic. His senses were alive! Those beneath him were enthusiastic and were paying homage with this magic. They were showing him his spiritualty with the visual reality. Blood and carnage were his grail, his elixir of life and his destiny. The voices were an ode to his supremacy. He basked and reveled in them.

He listened as the colors spoke. He laughed. _Soon, _he thought_. Soon we shall have two. One shall be mine, the other - another conquered to pay him tribute, gifting to him his color and his voice. SOON! _


End file.
